Not Stubborn Enough
by suckersoprano
Summary: Craig tries very hard not to foil date plans by covering up a bad cold.


The amount of layers Craig wore on an only slightly brisk September evening was insulation overkill, even for the constantly paranoid little blond. Rick wore a denim jacket, for example, though he probably wasn't a good measuring stick, being the one who would tromp around in a blizzard in that same jacket. Even if, watching Craig wriggle into a second sweater and then pull a long overcoat on top was probably too much. It was fifty degree's for shit's sake.

"Y'look like a walkin' sauna," Rick pointed out, leaning against Craig's front door, shaking his head.

"...I don't want to get cold," the man said simply without a glance. Pulling his thick leather winter gloves was far more important than enduring Rick's interrogation.

"S'prob'ly gonna be heated in the theater, babe," he continued, watching his date carefully. He was a lot redder in the face than normal; he looked tired, too, but that wasn't uncommon. Unfortunately anxiety and insomnia often went hand in hand—Rick had stayed up with him on more than one occasion, even if it was just on the phone. This tiredness, was a little different.

Craig's pale skin was even paler, if that was even possible. He looked more ashen and the rings under his eyes looked darker than typical. Rick's gaze flicked up to his date's face as he caught... a -_sniffle-._

"I know that," Craig said absently, patting down his wool coat, "'Probably' isn't good enough, for all you know, they still have air condi—i—aah-CHOO."

The blond barely got his gloved hands over his face to catch the sneeze, shoulders hunched and a guilty, furtive look blossoming on his face. Rick's shoulders relaxed from the startling noise and he gave Craig a knowing, scolding look. He knew something was up from the start.

"Yer sick," he accused.

Quickly, Craig rubbed his nose with the back of his hands, shaking his head violently, "No, I'm not, I'm fine, we can go see that movie you like, it was just a... allergies. Nothing more than that."

Thin excuses and outright lies, coupled with the already overwhelming evidence—Rick could only deduce that his boyfriend felt guilty about making him miss this big action-adventure flick he'd be talking about for several weeks now. Craig moved to stand in front of him and turned his tired eyes up to Rick's green ones, looking like he was ready to leave. Lightning fast, the bigger man snagged him by the waist and pulled him close so he couldn't get away as Rick pressed the back of his hand to Craig's forehead.

"Yikes! Goddamn, darlin', you're burnin' up!" he cried, shaking his hand like he'd actually gotten a burn.

Stubbornly, Craig pushed at Rick's chest with all his might, which was considerably less than normal, "It's simply the layers. I'm /_fine/!" _he insisted.

"Hell no," Rick responded to the pushing by full-on scooping the bundle of sweater and futilely fighting man off of the floor and toward Craig's bedroom.

"You... you /_blowhard/_, put me -_down-_!" Craig squirmed and fought, his voice growing more and more hoarse as he protested.

"No way no how, Peaches, 'm puttin' ya to bed," Rick announced, kicking the door to room open like he would so often for much less innocent things.

There wasn't anymore protests until Craig hit the bed with a small 'oof'. The blond tried his best to sit up and continue arguing, but Rick took it upon himself to pry all of the needless layers of clothing off of his body. Any fighting there was a little more strategic and a lot less forceful, but still all the sweaters, gloves, and the coat came off, making a pile on the floor. Rolling the skinny man in his blanket was surprisingly easier and soon, Rick had himself a Craig roll-up that he laid on the pillows.

The blond scowled and Rick just smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead, "Sit tight," he said, pulling Craig's glasses off of his nose, "I'll poke 'round the cabinets for somethin' t'give ya."

"Rick, let me -_out-_ of here!" he growled, writhing to try to get free, but it was no use. Rick was already out the door and heading for the bathroom. "...but what about your movie?" Craig sighed with a deep, guilty frown. Not that Rick could've heard him.

He tried to stay awake, he really did, but it didn't take long before his eyes slid shut and exhaustion took over. Craig didn't flinch when Rick came back into the room several times to check on him. Hands were pressed to his face and a thermometer worked into his mouth, but he didn't even stir. Medicines were balanced on his bedside table and the light was shut off. His hair was smoothed back and several more kisses pressed to his face. The roll of his blanket was eventually undone when Rick figured he wouldn't try to escape anymore. About then, he removed his own jacket and kicked off his shoes so he could climb into bed next to the sleeping man.

Only when Rick slung an arm over the sick blond's waist did he wake up, blinking blearily, blindly at the new occupant. Apparently satisfied with the company, Craig turned around and snuggled right up against the bigger man's t-shirt, sighing contentedly into the black fabric. Rick worked the blanket over the both of them with a smile and got comfortable, thinking they would sleep now.

"I'm going to get you sick," said a small voice from under his chin.

"'m a big boy, sweets, I can take it," he said gently, smoothing his hand across Craig's back.

"I mean it, I don't want to see you sick," the blond finally lifted his head, trying to look determined, but looking more adorably pathetic.

Rick shugged and pulled him forward for a kiss that Craig only fought for a moment before relaxing in defeat. All that really mattered was that it lifted his mood a moment and Rick's big hands both on his back and running through his hair made him tired again. More were pressed to his chin and neck when Rick pulled away, marveling at just how bad Craig's fever was.

"I don't care much, darlin'," he said, stating the obvious after that show.

In a resigned manner, Craig buried his face in the crook of Rick's neck, mumbling something softly into the fabric of his shirt. There was silence for a moment, it took the bigger man to realize anything was said at all. Gently, he pulled away so he could hear better.

"Whassat? Speak up," he teased, nuzzling against the blond's hair.

"I'm sorry. About the movie. I know you wanted to see it," Craig sighed, now more audible and more ashamed he couldn't just push through.

"We can go next week, movie ain't goin' nowhere," Rick assured him.

"But we had plans and you have to be disappointed, I'm just-"

Shushing finally got him to pipe down, Rick wrapped both arms around him and squeezed a little, too. He took the hint and just cuddled up instead. It was hard not to be tired when Rick was right there, making under the covers pleasantly warm just with his presence.

"Hush up, Peaches, I jus' wantcha better," Rick murmured quietly, shushing him some more until Craig finally relaxed against him, too damn tired to fight much more.

"'Sides, don't wanna see ya fallin' asleep in the movie on me," he teased with a chuckle, earning him a haphazard, weak slap to the chest.


End file.
